


Imagine the world would end with us being the only ones to witness it

by Frechi



Series: #HQAngstWeek2020 [8]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: "Has it always been this silent?", Amputation, Blood, Crying, Defeat, Fighting, Grief, Hospital, Injury, Loss, Loss of a limb, Memories, Mild Swearing, Sacrafice, Soulmates, Stargazing, Talking to Oneself, Tears, accident with a car, catching bugs in the forest, feeling guilty, kid oikawa and iwaizumi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:29:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27457252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frechi/pseuds/Frechi
Summary: "Tooru," a sudden voice called his name, making him stop his quiet sobbing."Tooru," the voice called again and he heared crunching steps on the forest ground."Tooru," he was next to him so fast. "What are you doing? Why are you crying?" his boyish friend asked him and found the red on his knees."Hajime," the brunette cried."You are so clumsy," he told him but he reached down nonetheless."Come on, I wanna show you something."
Series: #HQAngstWeek2020 [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1994737
Kudos: 3





	Imagine the world would end with us being the only ones to witness it

**Author's Note:**

> Last Round, Day 8 (Bonus):  
> •Tears  
> •Sacrafice  
> •"Has it always been this silent?"
> 
> The wonderful person with this wonderful tweet that inspired me:  
> https://twitter.com/correctseijoh/status/1297090880881463296?s=19
> 
> Please do not use my works for anything!

"Your team is weak," his deep voice put an accusation in the air.  
"You are the only exception."  
Oikawa's face unraveled itself. The hate he held towards him was endless.  
"What did you say?" his own voice rumbled in his throat, lowering a few octaves as if it was trying to imitate him, reflecting his own nonesense at its owner.  
"Oikawa!" another voice chimed in, restricting this childhood friend.  
"It's no use arguing."  
But Iwaizumi's face wasn't still either. He was looking at the left-handed not less irascible.  
Ushijima, on the other hand, was pretty much unimpressed.  
"You should have come to Shiratorizawa," his never changing words repeated for the tousandth of times. But it didn't make them less enraging. Truly, Oikawa looked at him like a maddened dog and by all means it was practically impossible for Iwaizumi to be still also. He took his wrist.  
"Let's go," he just mumbled, clearly restricting himself. Had he not, he would have exploded right there and then.  
"That includes you," his voice sounded up again and the spiky headed felt Oikawa beginning to tremble out of rage while the stare of the taller one bore itself into his back.  
"Try whatever you want," he brought up a calm voice he didn't know where he was taking it from.  
"But we're gonna beat you."  
He glared at him, having turned around fully once more.  
"No matter to which school or university we go. Or where we work or in which team we play."  
His own voice was dripping, he could hear it clearly, that what he had mistaken for calmness was irrepressible wrath he barely could hold back.  
"We will beat you"  
It was not easy to have said that. It was not easy to leave it at that. It was not easy either to pull his longstanding childhood friend away, at his wrist, which he didn't let go until they arrived at the changing room of their team. But Oikawa didn't complain. Both of them were not sure what both of them would have done if they wouldn't have restricted each other from whatever it would have been.  
They entered the room. The team had already changed, just packing the last of their belongings. Most of them had a reddened face, eyes a little swollen. The bin was full with tissues. The door closed behind them, Iwaizumi finally let go of the soft haired.  
"You can leave before us. Just wait at the bus," he told the others who understood what it also meant. There was nothing they were to blame for. A loss was a loss. And different people handle it differently. While some seek the comfort of another person, crying in their arms, some may just need to suffer silently and be alone.  
The room was filled with leaving footsteps until the last of them closed the door again.  
Iwaizumi reached for his clothes while he felt the feeling washing over him.  
"Honestly," he heared his friend mumble beside him, "he's always just saying that 'You should've come to Shiratorizawa, You should've come to Shiratorizawa'," he mocked Ushijima with a pitched down and dumb voice.  
"Ugh, is he a fucking Pokémon?"  
"He," Iwaizumi began to chuckle silently because it was so fitting, another laugh joining him quietly until it slowly but steadily faded into silent sobbing. He looked over and found his friend kneeling on the ground. His hand covered his mouth to not let a sound slip past.  
He knew Oikawa. And he knew how he hated it to show weakness, it was to blame on his strong pride. Even he got to see him like this only so rarely, always trying to prevent it with little gestures, showing Oikawa that he was not alone with his pain, so that he wouldn't have to suffer quietly and in solitude.  
"Damnit," he heared him press out between the sounds he couldn't keep in.  
"Hey," the darkette's soft voice spoke to him but it sounded a bit broken itself, when he came over these few steps, standing in front of his best friend. His best friend who so suddenly grabbed his wrists so strongly. His hands that could do so magical things with a volleyball, pulled at his own, drawing them into a straight line as if he was now trying to cover his face with his hands instead of his own.  
"Damnit," his only half hearable voice cursed again, a crack letting it fade into an inaudible whisper before his jaw clenched up, gritting his teeth while he pressed Iwaizumi's rough, calloused hands against his forehead.  
It was a rare image of a strangely suffering person. It was not what everyone was allowed to see. But Iwaizumi wasn't happy about being one of those who were. Who would even take happiness from seeing someone important cry? It was no good.  
Tears were silently falling from his eyes.  
Ah, he thought, sometimes you are just so helpless.  
And he still didn't know what to do when he wasn't able to keep him from feeling miserable, if there was anything he even could do. He could only grab back his hands that held on to him so vehemently that his fingers dug into his skin. He felt a little pain from it. But no physical pain could compare with the heaviness of the loss.  
It would take time to heal up from it as important things were always devastating while they didn't seem of any worth to others.

In the end they left with red eyes themselves and some staining marks on their cheeks.  
And no one questioned it when they took their seats in the bus, a silent drive laying ahead.  
The goodbyes weren't any happier either, when the captain and vice-captain saw them all off.  
They didn't need words when they left on their own, walking down the road. They were silent though, when they walked through the night, only street lamps spending light here and there. The mood was gloomy still, sadness and dismay wouldn't vanish just like that.  
How frustrating, Iwaizumi thought to himself while he listened to both their footsteps.  
He knew not to blame anyone specific for it. They had played as best as they could. But sometimes 'best' was still not enough.  
"Iwa-chan," Oikawa's small voice called his name and his head turned only a little bit, eyes looking at the taller one from underneath.  
"Can we take a little detour?" he asked and he sounded silent still.  
Honestly, Iwaizumi didn't feel like it. He just wanted to go home and be frustrated in his room.  
"Sure," he still consented, knowing that else Oikawa would do the same. Although he would not be able to move on as fast as the spiky headed as he was more resentful.  
He followed the taller one, leaving the lightened road to a dark path through a bunch of trees, a part of the forest nearby, a part of the hilly landscape they lived in. He knew where he was leading him, after all it had been engraved inside his brain. Carefully they made their way up, through the uneven ground. The trees swallowed the light the natural sources provided, only guiding them with their phones.  
Oikawa didn't have to say anything when Iwaizumi recognized where they had arrived. He switched off his light shortly after his friend while they walked the last of the way through the darkness. The trees parted, giving way to a meadow. The familiar scent engulfed them, a pleasant feeling filled them up. It was as if they had come home. And a starry sky opened up above the world. Iwaizumi followed his friend down a bit. In the middle of the grass and plants, flowers filling the air with a certain sweetness, they came to a stop next to the stump of a tree.  
And still, they didn't need words when they pressed their heads back in the napes of their necks, looking at what was stealing away their breaths. The night was so silent when the stars were the only lights in the dark sky. Little spots of hope gleaming and glimmering, flickering with the reflection of light that was so far away.  
There was a little touch in this fresh air, when the dark-eyed felt tips tugging at his fingers. Slowly they came through the space in-between. They curled up in his palm. Quietly he intertwined them with his own, closing his hand around his slender one. He was wondering how they could be so strong with the fragile way they were while they didn't exchange anything more in this silent moment. They felt so small underneath what was so wide, giving them this big space to let the devastation vanish to. And indeed, it was a bit relieving, soothing even. Iwaizumi felt a little of the awfulness fall off already as the easement of this comfortable moment outweighed it so easily.

It made practice less unpleasant. As much as Iwaizumi loved the sport, the company and the joy he took from playing with his friends, coming back right after a loss brought also a bitter feeling with it, which would only eventually fade again. Looking at the stars had made it less painful. Which didn't mean he was fully concentrated. A small chagrin about how the last point could have been different was gnawing at him. Of course he wasn't the only one. The whole team was feeling crestfallen thus their practice was slacking in a lot of points. Iwaizumi, though, still did his best to correct them, give them advice, get them back to their actual selves. He tried to be optimistic, praising them more than usual. He was relieved when it slowly showed an affect, the liveliness and joy coming back. They began hitting the balls with more vigour again at the end and he was sure that the next practice would be a lot better.  
Truly, it was a strong trait of his. While Oikawa was good at getting the best out of someone, Iwaizumi was good at supporting. Steadying wavering feet, building up a weak confidence, strengthening a feeble back and catching a falling body. Although latter was something he only needed to do to Oikawa. He, out of all people, with his pride and incredible strength, needed someone to catch him the most. Although sometimes even Iwaizumi couldn't make it in time, he still came afterwards and picked him up again. It could be small gestures like a strong pat on the back or a long talk. It varied, depending on what the situation required. And today, it seemed, Oikawa needed a long, long talk.  
He was changed already, having said goodbye to Mattsun and Makki and all his Kouhai, when he returned to the gym, hearing the bouncing sounds of the balls long before he arrived at the door.  
"It's late," he disrupted his friend's overlengthened practice. "Auntie will be worried," he added when the brown-haired only huffed from the exertion, sweat covering his skin. He exposed a little of his stomach when he used his shirt to wipe it away.  
"I just need to get it right," he replied and picked up another ball.  
"Come on, Oikawa," he called him again but could only sigh at his wicked stubbornness. Taking off his shoes and his jacket, he entered the hall.  
"What is 'it'?" he asked and entered the court which got him a surprised gaze.  
"Serving, tossing and receiving," he still replied with a slightly frustrated voice.  
"Alright," his voice mumbled when he got in position.  
He received so he could serve.  
He played to him so he could recieve.  
He spiked for him so he could toss.  
Repeating, until they sat on the ground, completely exhausted, wheezing and drenched in sweat.  
"It's your fault," the spiky headed brought out between shuddering breaths, "that I have to wash my clothes now, Stupidkawa."  
"I didn't....ask you to join," he defended himself but knew so very well to cherish his help. Volleyball was a team sport after all. He couldn't have corrected himself. He couldn't have joined hands with him in high fives. He couldn't have felt this little joy returning.  
"Not with that stupid mouth of yours."  
"What is that supposed to mean?" he asked and sat up. Iwaizumi, for his part, continued laying on the ground. And it took him a moment to answer, choosing the right amount of harshness his friend could handle and needed now.  
"Your posture was aweful. No wonder that you sucked," he bluntly said.  
"Wha-"  
"You were playing way too overzealous, your fingers were stiff and you didn't pay any attention to others," the criticism hailed down on him, "Do I really have to explain volleyball to you?"  
He rolled onto his stomach, looking at his friend who had his head on his knees, his face puckered grumpily.  
"Do I?" he asked again and wanted a real answer from him.  
"No," the brunette grumbled.  
"Good. Because I also think I don't have to." He sat up with the taller one's head that he lifted in surprise.  
"You know, it really annoys me to see you so frustrated. It's super annyoing having to deal with that side of yours, oh well, it's probably annoying to deal with every of your sides."  
"Thanks," a less happy and pretty sarcastic reply came from the soft haired.  
"But at least you are not as agitated and aggravated anymore."  
Again could Oikawa not hold back the sudden surprise covering his face.  
"And what are you still doing here?" a sharp voice disrupted them and a teacher stood in the door, tapping her fingers impatiently against her crossed arms. They stood up and apologized, quickly changing in the locker room while she waited for them to return the key.  
"Come on," Iwaizumi told him to leave and began to move. They walked down the familiar roads, quietly with only their steps to resound in the darkened hours of the day. Iwaizumi only walked half a step ahead of him, negligibly offset. He let himself be engulfed in the break their voices enjoyed. But then there it was again. A slender hand that winded its fingers in-between his own. And a quiet sound followed the warmth on his skin.  
"Thanks," Oikawa said as if to hope his ears wouldn't have caught that. And Iwaizumi only squeezed his hand a little bit, pretending to not have heared it while he still showed him that he still had.  
What a problematic person he was. Yes, he was the biggest annoyance in Iwaizumi's life. But he was also what he took pride in the most. There was nothing that could compare to the extent of him. Truly, it was love that he felt. But it was neither Eros nor was it Agape. What his love was, was Philia. He shared that with others too, Matsukawa and Hanamaki in example, but the Philia with Oikawa still was one of a kind. It was incomparable. And the dark-headed was more than glad to have this piece in his life, in a way it made him feel invincible.  
He had to hold back a chuckle with that thought.  
Invincible  
And still had they just lost to someone.  
What irony  
Nonetheless did his heart feel a little warm when they parted at the front doors, fingers slipping past each other, but the feeling stayed. After all, these little moments made it worth it. These little moments being also what differentiated them. Iwaizumi could confess to his moments of weakness while Oikawa didn't want others to see them. Nonetheless was it only that, as both of them knew when the other needed the other, if they admitted it or not. If it was needed, they would be there. Just how the spiky headed always caught his friend, these slender hands were what caught him. While Oikawa was not the one being good at supporting, the little and apparently fragile givings of honest affection were what it needed for Iwaizumi to get up again. It was unconditional support they gave to each other. Although Oikawa's perfectionism was a little harder to break through, Iwaizumi saw how he had let go of the loss a little during the next practice. His doggedness had passed, although a frustration still was there. But Iwaizumi had known before, that it would take more than just a day, two, maybe three were what it usually needed for his friend to carry on. And until he wasn't ready to move on, Iwaizumi could only keep pushing him through. But to his little annoyance, this day didn't even arrive with the third day practice after their defeat. While the team was moving on pretty quickly, his childhood friend was not. And what was even more annoying, that he had started to be a real pain in the ass.  
Well, he had been that before but now, since the second day, he gave Iwaizumi no room to breathe. He clung to him like an icy pole to a frozen tongue. Admittedly, he was there for his friend and he didn't dislike it but the way the brunette treated him now was just ridiculous. He even followed him to the toilet, his persistence causing a light migrane in the darkette's temple.

Nonetheless he had noticed, that there was a different feeling to it, he was still processing the loss that was especially frustrating for Oikawa as it had been someone he resented who had defeated him.  
But still, it was no reason to smother the smaller one with his coping.  
"You can't possibly still be haggard from that," he addressed the problem after more than three days, changing from practice.  
"Iwa-chan, are you my mom?"  
A tightly gripping hand slapped against his forhead, squeezing his head.  
"Ow, ow ow," he complained but there was a smile on Oikawa's lips. It was his usual behaviour, it was one of his usual jokes, it was usual for him to get Iwaizumi's blood boiling. And even though he knew that he had to expect a penalty, he still always did it again. Because he loved to make him livid, especially now that he wanted to be cared for. He found what he sought in Iwaizumi's interactions with him, even if they were raw. His attention was what Oikawa was sucking up like a dehydrated animal water.  
Yet this time was a bit different. While Iwaizumi usually would just hurt him a bit, he then would let it go and they would return to small bickering, just how their friendship was. And it was fine that way. But this time the dark-headed spiky head stayed mad at him. What had been bickering before, was fighting now.  
"Why are you like this," his patience finally met its end.  
"I'm not different that usual," he replied, totally dodging the question, "Why are you always so mad at me?" Oikawa clearly denied the serious anger his friend now felt, only prodding him more.  
"Because you are always behaving like shit!" he now yelled. It was so unlike him to get this loud in the middle of the street.  
"Well, if you don't like it why are you sticking around then?" Now Oikawa had lost his patience too, being just as pissed as his friend.  
"You know what?" The spiky headed stopped, Oikawa who was walking a little bit in front of him, noticing, turning around and asking annoyed: "What?"  
"Maybe that would be the better choice."  
There was an undeniable sting inside the brunette's heart. Someone he knew since the very beginning....sure you could grow apart but being told that to his face. It was a complete new kind of pain, a pain that overwhelmed him as easy as a wave at the beach could cover his feet with salty water.  
There was a pause. As if something just stood still but time was it certainly not. Maybe it was his mind, his heart and his breathing that missed the importantcy of their tasks. But as soon as this beat was over, Oikawa just turned around, wanting to cross the street at the traffic light.  
"Oikawa, WAIT!" he heared his friend yell in this tunnel of buzzing in his ears and a hand grabbed his wrist with painful pressure, keeping him there, turning him back around. But the connection of skin on skin was like acid was poured down his arm. It was burning, as if it was eating at his flesh, etching away even the bones.  
"You want it to end? Then I'll do you the favour and LEAVE!"  
With his words he yanked it right out of his hand, taking a step back to support the shifting of his weight.

A car zoomed past.

He didn't feel the pain at first.

He toppled to the ground.

Hitting the asphalted street, the feeling in his body was bombed up.

He felt it all.

The whole extend of the contorted brokenness.

Before he lost consciousness.

Truly, being without Oikawa had become something despicable to Iwaizumi. His reality was not made to be without this slob who had made his world spin around him tirelessly. It had become so gruesome at one point that he had stopped thinking about it as it longly had become his worst nightmare.  
He only felt his heart slowing with the world when the center of it fell down. He felt his eyes grow wide when they met his maroon ones and dreadful horror crept up his neck just as slow when they rolled back, lids shutting them tight. A splash of red bursted on the bright colours of his uniform, its wetness smearing through his dark brown hair. His eyes were recording it all, the trauma it set into his head with his other senses benumbed. He only heard a little screeching in the distance while a loud 'thud' drained out every sound there was in this night. And his limbs wouldn't move, his voice wouldn't even call out. It was just passing him quietly until the beat of his heart came back, rolling in from far away, getting faster, feelable, a shot and he began to run when his heart started gunning. A waft of iron hit his nose, burning him until he was befogged. His knees crashed next to his limp body. A puddle was forming, the red pooling out of him. And his head went mad. It fell to chaos.  
His hands were trembling so when he barely dared to touch him. His head had rolled to one side and he was hesitating so much when his tips turned his face.  
Oikawa's eyes were closed, his face was contorted in a bizarre way. And it scared him to his very core. The white complexion was ill, even for him, looking so, so pale. Hollowly he stroked across his skin as if he was searching for a proof for his existence. But the brunette stayed motionless, even his breath had become so very still. He was suffering all quietly.  
The sounds behind his own voice were like an echo, a scream for help, a scream of pain and loss, revealing the truth in him, yet for no one to see.  
And Iwaizumi felt him turning dark while the world was cloaked in silence, the night turned cold.

It was something he hadn't intended to say. While he had thought about a life without his childhood friend from time to time, he yet always ended up not wanting it. Sure, Oikawa was annoying as hell but there was so much that was attached to him that Iwaizumi could never possibly just cut away like that. The brunette had infiltrated his life too much already. At the end of the day he always found himself feeling lonely just a bit when he had imagined a life without him. He never wished for it to become reality. Being at fault for it now, broke away parts of him.

His consciousness had left him eventually. And suddenly he found himself laying there. On the ground. Rain had started to fall at some point. He hadn't noticed it. His mind was blank, empty and thoughtless. He couldn't remember but he didn't try to remember either. He didn't ask what had happened. He didn't ask why he was there. Secretly he knew without his thoughts being there. He knew he had capsized. He knew he had waited. A wait that was coming to an end now.

For a last time. His head rolling to one side, focusing on his still chest. Rain continued to patter down on both bodies. His eyes were squinted shut, long lashes standing in the air but his face was strangely contorted. Serene yet as if he was still in pain. His hand reached out. The smell of his blood longly being washed away. His cold skin touched his as if he was searching for an indication, for a proof. He always had very light complexion but even he looked pale in this darkness. Iwaizumi caressed his eyelids, his cheeks, his lips as if to understand that they were limp, unmoving. But his gentle rubbing did nothing. Nothing at all. He stayed motionless, suffering in all quiescence. Realizing that yet realizing nothing at all, he turned away. Everything seemed so dull, the information of his condition didn't come through. Only slowly, most agonizingly slow it seeped though the cotton he was cloaked in, passed through the veil he was surrounded with, came close to him in this slow motion he suddenly lived in. And that's how they found him. Soaked and cold next to him, soaked and cold.

"All the times I've told you to shut up...I really wish I hadn't done that. Sometimes you are just so loud. I can't remember you ever closing your mouth this long, really. Has it always been this silent?"  
There was no answer his lips could provide.  
"Have you ever shut up? I really dislike when you are this noisy but come to think of it....I miss it now....Ne, Oikawa, why are you so quiet? Where is your annoying voice? Where has it gone? ......I miss it...."

He buried his face in his knees, covering himself from the world while his head was flooded again. Flooded with the only thing there always had been. It was not even volleyball he had spent most of his time with. Oikawa was even more than that. There was just nothing else to remember. But even the memories of the happiness had a lonely colour following it so closely behind. There was only this solitude remaining, remembering everything he had done.  
Could he have done more?  
If so, could he have made it?  
It had been the hardest to explain it to his family.  
"There was an accident," his quiet voice had told. And he hadn't been able look them in their faces. While he only could watch how their world was breaking down so suddenly, he stood outside. And he was feeling something. Something he couldn't even remember.  
Had he been paralyzed?  
Had he mourned?  
Had he been in pain?  
He couldn't remember, his fingertips couldn't remember.  
And he wished only for those eyes he could remember to look at him with their chestnut brown. He wished for his voice to tease him again.  
He just wished for him to return.  
If he could give his voice away, that his mouth could speak again, Oikawa's own voice had gone so far away. If he could give it to Oikawa, he would not hesitate.

A knock on his door disrupted his suffering state of decay, barely managing to float somewhere near the surface.  
A nurse came in, giving him his medicine, checking on him, he even asked how he were. But he couldn't give an honest answer. His own voice sounded strange, unfamiliar and not like his own. It felt like someone elses, a voice he didn't recognize. Truly, he had no use for something that was not his.

Could it have been more bearable if he had known?  
That it was something Oikawa too never wanted to say. He didn't even try to waste a thought on pondering about a life without his childhood friend. He never wanted him out of his life. He knew that he was annoying, he knew because he teased Iwaizumi on purpose, to get a reaction out of him. It was just fun to see him blow off. And even if he himself sometimes thought he had crossed the line, in the end they always were back to how they usually were. He couldn't think him out of his life. He just couldn't. He was relying on him too much already. And even if he didn't show it, he was very happy and grateful that Iwaizumi tolerated and endured him and that he always stayed no matter what Oikawa had done again. There were a lot of things Oikawa liked. The fangirls, for example. Or winning. Of course his club mates and his family. But Iwaizumi was his dearest.

If he had told him so, would it have been more endurable?  
Would it have made Iwaizumi break completely?

"Emotional pain is so much worse than physical. Because you don't know if it will stop."  
His hand found his hair and he seemed a little more conscious.  
"Oikawa....." his name was dissociating from his mortal being.  
"You are my mental pain," this voice gave a meaning to his absence.  
"But if it means that you will always be there," a gulp of this air he tried to free, to carry out along the words he needed him to hear, "I can't hate it."  
And his silence was so violently brutal.  
"Without you I can't be invincible."

He pushed back his head, his eyes followed up the sight to what he had striven towards.

"It smells like rain" His childlike voice told the other boy.  
"Shouldn't we head home then?" the other said insecurely.  
"No. There are some cool bugs that only come out with rain."  
"But Hajime, I don't want to get wet," the brunette whined.  
"We can just use a tree for shelter," he gave his solution and climed up the slope further.  
"Wait for me," the petite boy called out to him.  
"Hurry," he replied and continued his adventurous path.  
"Hajime, don't walk so fast," the younger one called out again, trying his best to climb after his friend who had left his sight but the hours of wandering through the uneven and hilly forest had exhausted him already.  
"Hajime," he called his friend again, his little voice suddenly so insecure.  
"Hajime where are you?" and it faded into thickness.  
"Hajime," he became desperate now, not watching where he set his tiny foot, making him slip and topple down the way he had come. Tears stung alongside the red drops slowly rolling out his scraped knees.  
"Hajime," he whimpered his friend's name while he silently began to cry. He huddled up. A feeling of loneliness and abandonement overcoming him. He had left him for his stupid bugs.  
And his tears dripped down on his legs, the saltiness making his injuries sting a little more.

"Tooru," a sudden voice called his name, making him stop his quiet sobbing.  
"Tooru," the voice called again and he heared crunching steps on the forest ground.  
"Tooru," he was next to him so fast. "What are you doing? Why are you crying?" his boyish friend asked him and found the red on his knees.  
"Hajime," the brunette cried.  
"You are so clumsy," he told him but he reached down nonetheless.  
"Come on, I wanna show you something."  
"I don't want any bugs anymore," his tears hadn't stopped yet.  
"It's not a bug."  
"But I wanna go home," he still cried.  
"We will go home afterwards, okay?"  
Little Tooru sniffled.  
"You promise?"  
"I promise," the tough kid said and his soft friend finally took his hand.  
"But only for a moment," he agreed to follow his friend again, his voice still a bit shaking.  
He let his friend lead him up the slope, carefully and while they held hands this time, so that he wouldn't slip again. Step after step they climbed up what seemed like a little mountain to them.  
Hajime led him to a few trees that held a passage in-between them, the light behind them being a bit brighter than the dimmed rays in the forest.  
Tooru clutched his hand a bit tighter while Hajime pulled him further. When they passed the trees, a meadow spread in front of them, flowers of all sorts and kinds blooming in full magnificence.  
"Uwaaa," Tooru said in amazement, his injuries completely forgotten. The sweet smell hung in the air, it was everywhere. He run a few steps down, amidst the brightly coloured plants where he just dropped down and began plucking flowers.  
Hajime followed him.  
"It's so beautiful," the tender boy said with a delighted gleam in his eyes, a smile beaming at the darkette.  
"I thought you might like it."  
"It's awesome!" he yelled and his echo resounded.  
"Woah, that's so cool."  
"TOORUUUU," he screamed his own name.  
"IS A CRYBABY," Hajime followed.  
"You meanie!" the brunette complained but broke into laughter alongside his friend.  
The 'only a moment' turned into a lot longer, spending it between the grass and blossoms, Hajime hunting for all kinds of insects but without straying too far from Tooru while Tooru's attention laid completely on the flowers.  
Right then when the clouds began to gather, the little hunter came back with a big bug he had caught, presenting it proudly to his friend. And even though Tooru didn't really like bugs, he cheered him and gave him a flowercrown for 'the best bug hunter', putting the other he had made on his own head for 'best partner' when the first drops fell down. They ran to a lonesome tree in the middle of the meadow as it was closer than the actual forest where they waited for the wetness to pass.

Ah, he thought. Smells like rain.

The heavy drops continued to patter down on him. Clattering on his cooling skin, smashing on his lids. His lips began to tremble, turning to a light lavender. Raindrops, just like then. And a scent...just like then. But against the feeling of spring, when it all smelled fresh, new. And when he had sat beside him, the scent of flowers vaporising from him, a bright smile to greet him, so brillant like the sun that had went into hiding. Now it was just grey. There were no flowers, only fumes from the close by cars and the tarred street across. No spring but a heavy day, old and worn out. He wasn't beside him to smile and turn the world a shade brighter. Even the smell slowly changed. Not fresh, not new. The scent turned cold. It was a dying day....when his voice had died with him that night.

A nurse hurried to his side, taking the wheelchair at its handles and pushing him back inside. But when Iwaizumi looked up at the clouds a last time, the sky never seemed closer to the ground.

His pulse quickend so fastly.  
Had he imagined?  
Had it really happened?  
He stared at the moving lips, mumbling incomprehensible sounds.  
In a slowed down state his left arm lifted, his hand pressing carefully against his pale forehead.  
"Tooru," his voice dared to travel back in time, calling a name it had longly discarded.  
The brunette groaned.  
"Who are you to call me like that?"  
The sound of his raspy voice that hadn't spoken this whole time, made Iwaizumi freeze.  
Slowly his bandaged body sat up with weak energy, head a bit lowered while his hand didn't part from the skin there.  
And then his eyes opened, face turning to his side, eyes he hadn't seen for so long.

"Iwa-chan," he called his nickname perplexed, his whole reaction and movement as if he had just woken up from a not necessarily good dream.  
"Where are we?" his hoarse voice asked and his friend still couldn't react.  
"The hospital?" he discovered when he looked around the room.  
"What are we doing here?"  
"You-" his own voice gave in so quickly again.  
"You had an accident."

It took only these words for Oikawa's body to remind him of the pain it should be in.  
It needed only these words for his mind to remind him of what had happened.

"How're you feeling?" and his voice was shaking.

"It doesn't hurt," Oikawa answered. The painkillers doing their part and benumbing his nerves enough.

"That's good then," the spiky headed said and his heartbeat became less painful.  
"You always just need two or three days to recover after all," and he chuckled just a little bit, silently yet still it was enough for his childhood friend to hear. And the fright was real when it let Oikawa's face drop, his face slipped completely with the little breeze that ruffled through the room.  
"Iwa-chan, what did you do...?" his voice was so quiet, it was like liquid dread flowing from his lips.  
"I just helped a friend." There was too much innocence and self-awareness in his words when the empty sleeve of his hospital clothes fell back to his side.  
There was a noticable difference between the skin colour of his own hands now, Oikawa saw. And Iwaizumi told him about the happenings his shutting mind couldn't have noticed on that evening, how the car had ripped off his right limb, tearing right through the middle of his upper arm. It had dragged along the seperated part and destroyed it. It had been beyond fixing.

"Why would you" and his voice died away in the thickness that overcame it.

"Because you are...special," and Iwaizumi's own voice sounded familiarly steady.  
"You are good at volleyball."  
He looked at the maroon bob of soft hair.  
"I know you hate to hear it but Ushijima was right. We are just average. But you....are extrordinary."  
There was a tender smile on his lips when he watched his friend curl up even more.  
The notice of the stump at his childhood friend's side made his back crawl with the awareness he would never shake off again. Knowing that he had lost a limb because of him was something he could never repay again. It made him want to puke from this nausea creeping up his throat.

"How can I ever repay that? Losing an arm-"  
"I didn't lose," Iwaizumi almost interrupted his childhood friend.  
"If I had lost, you wouldn't be here. I have won. Because you still are."  
And suddenly he felt the meaning of them being here. As if he had only realized now just how lucky they had been.  
"And if I had lost...you," he swallowed a lump, his eyes were getting wet suddenly, only a little but they burned enough to hurt.  
"I wouldn't be here either."  
"What do you mean?" and Oikawa's voice bore the wetness of his eyes that he tried to hold back.

"I need you," a genuine reply left the air with no room for doubts.  
And Oikawa lifted his head.  
"For...?" he asked and he sounded just as clueless as he was.  
"Ever"  
It was a word that was so bluntly honest that it caught the last remaining resistance his friend had kept.  
"Oh," he only brought out and his voice was cracking when his eyes let go of his tears.  
"Geez," Iwaizumi chuckled. "You're such a crybaby."


End file.
